Free Tell Me a Story by Dallas Schulze

watched her cross the wide expanse of lawn that lay between them and the house and then turned back to Ann.
    "I can remember when Bessy would beg me to throw sticks for her. I guess I haven't gotten home much these last few years. I tend to forget how old she's getting."
    "You and your father don't get along very well, do you?" Ann hadn't planned onasking the question. It was none of her business, and she didn't want to become any more involved with Flynn and his family than she already was. Nevertheless, there the question was and, once asked, she wanted to hear his answer.
    "A masterpiece of understatement if I've ever heard one." Flynn's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "My father thinks I'm a playboy and a wastrel. I haven't done any of the things a McCallister is supposed to do. As far as he's concerned, I haven't done anything right since I was born."
    Ann stared at Becky without seeing her. Flynn's words brought back her own childhood too vividly for comfort. "It must have been hard to please him."
    Flynn shrugged. "I never tried. At least I quit trying so long ago that I can't remember it ever being different."
    "How can you not try to please your father?" The concept was so foreign to her that it was as if he were speaking another language.
    "I suppose I might have been more inclined to try if it hadn't been for my older brother. You see, Mark was perfect. My father didn't just think he was perfect, he really was." His smile twisted with memories. "He was captain of his football team, captain of the debating team. I swear, in kindergarten, he started out as captain of the clean-up squad. He got straight A's right from the start. He was intelligent, polite, handsome and had a great sense of humor."
    He reached out and tugged on a pendulous eucalyptus branch, methodically stripping it of every leaf.
    "The awful thing about Mark was that it was all absolutely sincere. He was truly the greatest older brother any kid could want."
    "But you couldn't compete." Ann's voice was soft. She knew just how he felt, though her competition had been the ideal of a son who'd never existed outside her father's dreams.
    "I couldn't compete." He finished with the branch and reached for another one. "I gave up trying even before I got into school. I don't know, I sometimes think I became a rebel just to give myself an identity. At least Dad noticed me as something other than Mark's shadow. But maybe that's making myself a little too sympathetic. I can't say I don't enjoy doing exactly what I'm doing. The fact that it irritates Dad is just aside effect."
    "Just what do you do?" He slanted her an amused look and Ann flushed, realizing how critical the question sounded. "I mean, you don't seem to go to work or anything...." She trailed off, aware that she hadn't done a very good job of explaining what she meant. Maybe it was because she wasn't entirely sure herself.
    "That's okay. Not many people recognize my profession."
    He released the branch, letting it snap back into place. The smile he turned on her was brilliant. Ann blinked, not wanting to notice how her heartbeat accelerated under that look.
    "Your profession?" She was barely aware of speaking. Was it possible to get lost in a man's eyes?
    "I'm a professional playboy. There aren't many of us left in the world. Our numbers have been decimated by increasing social pressures to be useful and develop careers. I'm one of thelast of a dying breed. The truly useless man about town." He bowed low before her, and Ann had to bite her lip to hold back a giggle.
    "I think you're too hard on yourself. Nobody is completely useless."
    "I am. And proud of it."
    "Don't you get bored?"
    "No. There's so much to see in the world. I travel quite a bit. There's never a chance to get bored."
    She shook her head, unable to imagine a life without the limits of work or school to frame the days. "I can't imagine not having a job."
    "That's the trouble with the world today. Nobody can imagine life without